


VH1's I Love the 90's

by sarahcakes613



Series: Westeros in the 90's [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), game of thrones
Genre: 90's Music, F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bronn and Margaery both want the same album, and there's only one copy. The 90's called, and demanded to be used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	VH1's I Love the 90's

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jillypups](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jillypups/gifts).



 

Margaery hated Willas.

No, that wasn’t true. She could never hate her darling older brother. She just didn’t understand his fascination with old things. Here she was, in a basement store that she was pretty sure was actually called Ye Olde Record Shoppe, all because his birthday was coming up and he had not stopped talking about the new AC/DC album. He and Oberyn had driven to every shop in town and it was sold out in every one of them, and he’d done the sad puppy face when he’d told Margaery his tale of woe.

Margaery couldn’t resist his sad puppy face. Damnit. She’d spent an afternoon at work with the yellow pages propped open in front of her, dialing every music store listed, furtively looking towards the door every so often to make sure no one noticed the lack of actual work happening. Finally, she’d hit upon this place. The guy on the phone had gruffly agreed to put aside his last copy of _Ballbreaker_. He’d sniggered when he’d said it, which Margaery found so totally gross.

The floor felt sticky, and the walls were covered in posters for bands that seemed to be made up largely of leather-wearing guys with long hair and the occasional loin clothed viking. Ugh. She could not wait to get out of here and back into her car, where she could pop in _Post_ and groove her way home. Bjork was European, and nobody else knew who she was, which made Margaery feel all that and a bag of chips.

This place seemed to specialise in older bands, but Margaery noticed a display of new music and stopped to check it out. There were a dozen cassette tapes by a band called _Garbage_. The name was a bit weird, but she liked the cover art so she grabbed a copy to check out.

When she got to the cash, she stood patiently behind an older guy in ripped jeans and the grungiest plaid shirt she’d ever seen. She had a few plaid shirts in her closet, but they were Ralph Lauren, and his looked like they came in a 3-pack from Sam’s Club. Still, he wasn’t a total scrub, she thought, checking out the pull of the shirt across his shoulders.

“Come on, my man, I was here yesterday and you said you had a copy left!” Grunge guy was pleading with the hulking store owner.

“Sorry Bronn, someone called earlier to reserve it. Said she’d pay double.”

They were talking about her. Margaery had let her last name slip when she’d called from work, and promised to pay extra if he set his last copy aside for her.

Sidestepping the unhappy grungester in front of her, Margaery placed her cassette on the counter and smiled widely at the man behind the counter. He stared back at her, eyes taking in the hot pink scrunchie in her hair and the floral babydoll dress, complete with denim button up tied around her waist.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it sounded like you were talking about me – I’m here to pick up the new AC/DC album?”

The store owner shrugged his shoulders at the grungester – Bronn, the owner had called him - and reached down to pull it from below the cash register.

“Hey riot grrl.” Margaery turned around slowly.

“Excuse me?”

“Riot girl!” He was grinning at her. He had a total fox face, and his grin said _I want to eat you up_. He waved at her outfit. “You’ve got the whole Hole thing going on. Heh. Whole hole.” He sniggered, and the brute behind the counter joined in. They sounded like Beavis and Butt-Head.

Margaery rolled her eyes at him and turned back around to pay. Bronn put a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her back to face him.

“My bad, that was kind of lame.  Maybe you should storm out of here? Leave _Ballbreaker_ behind?” He was trying to look contrite, but his eyes were laughing and now his grin was saying _I want to make you my dessert_ and Margaery felt flushed suddenly.

“I probably would normally,” she stammered, “but it’s for my brother’s birthday. Sorry.”

Bronn shrugged. “It was worth a shot.” He raised a hand in goodbye to the owner. “I’ll see ya later, Sandor. I’m late for work at the factory as it is.”

Margaery looked Bronn up and down, cracking a grin of her own. “Tell you what – the drive home takes me past the factory, why don’t we listen to it in my car?"


End file.
